Drawn In
by PhoniexDown
Summary: An Axel and Roxas fan fiction, set in the south. Upon seeing a figure in one the old mansions windows as a child, years later he sees it again but this time is taken over by an overpowering force to become closer to it. I fail at summaries. 8D
1. First Contact

**Well hello there. ;D **

**I should note, that if you find this story opening completly weird and sucky then I apologzie. If you like it, then woohoo. **

**I wrote this for the wonderful kurosora1984, because I love their fan fics so much! I hope you like it, and I will updating it so please bare with me. **

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The moonlight was soft, causing the darkness to lighten and make shadows visible. Crickets chirped, their song carrying over the humid night and mixing with a distant steam whistle of a river boat along the murky water. A bell tolled, steam rising upwards as another whistle blew, closer now as it pierced the night and signifying the return of the train.

The depot was painted in olden colors, warm and inviting with white lacy trim and bended metal that spun in intricate designs and was a common sight in this area, for it reigned supreme on the nearby hotel. Their was a party going on, from the sound of it, as the guests carried on unseen from inside the warmly lit rooms with the windows flung open to the small bit of breeze.

More often then not the passengers would seek refuge at this hotel but never could find the proper amount of sleep due to it's permanent inhabitants. These were no different, as the new lot departed and grabbed luggage to lug down the wide brick stairs onto cement streets.

Their way was lit by gas lamps near wise old oaks, their personal greeter to this place that many would soon call home. Some headed out towards the Mint Julep, the nearby café and bar, for a refreshment before continuing on their way to the outskirts. Others crossed the train tracks immediately, heading into the glowing hotel and some made their way through the narrow streets that seemed to glitter in the moonlight.

A sound of chimes echoed from one balcony, as a high shriek of a woman's voice came soon after in some sort of chant. The newcomers head's shot up, curious, but to see nothing more then a purple painted balcony with large wooden skulls and other trinkets. Some lingered beneath it, puzzled, yet most moved on into the night.

A young women, in a knee high skirt with cream colored nylons and pinned back hair held onto a small hand of the child beside her. Protectively, a man in a long auburn coat came up beside her, carrying two large suitcases. Their eyes turned forward, as they began to walk out towards the river bank in the dim distance, and quiet chatter began to bubble up between them.

Yet, the child's eyes were down cast and wet with tears, making them even more blue then they already were. His fair face was pulled together in sadness, and anger, as the bit of breeze brushed softly through his cow licked hair as if to calm him. He sniffed, trying to keep the contents of his nose intact and to not appear so very saddened to his father and mother.

They were so happy to be here, as he looked up at their smiling faces that beamed with affection for one another. He could not bare to disappoint them, for they said he grow to like this place too and in time would make many a friend. But who would wish to be friends with one as odd as him?

It puzzled the young boy, as he glanced here and there but kept seeing nothing that interested him. So, he simply listened to the nights sounds that seemed to so very near and then so very far away. Before too long, they came across the river and the ferry station, a crowd gathering around them as they all wished to board.

The young blonde had turned away from the sight of the new land they would be living on, finding it all too painful to look at, and as he did so his eyes wondered through the darkness to an almost glowing sight. It was almost invisible, yet at the same time so very visible and so very real as if it were daylight and was clear of all shadows.

Two iron gates with a fence to match surrounded a massive mansion, with large white columns that stood as arches over the entrance. Their were several stories, the top two barring balconies, and a small attic window that above it bestowed a weather vain in the shape of a small sailing ship.

Yet, that is not what caught the young boy's eyes and made them widen in interest; for one of the windows bore an unnatural light that shone off a figure.

The boy had to squint to see any better, yet all he could make out were flashes of red and brillant green. In a moment's time, a soft velvety voice flew threw the air and seemed to tickle at his ear, "You..can see..?" Then, a feeling so wonderful and surreal took over him, and all sadness was lifted from him. He felt whole. It made the boy catch his breath, but before he could respond he was taken by the hand and brought to the ferry.

He thought he could hear a pleading, "Wait, wait!" but it was dim and became even more so as the ferry carried him over the water.

When he looked back to the house the light was gone, yet somehow the feeling remained.


	2. Blue Eyed Boy

**Sorry if the last chapter was confusing, hope this clears a few things up. :D **

**(Though it might still confuse. -head/desk- ) **

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Morning sunshine spread through the trees of the small island as birds began to sing; their wake up song traveled quickly, into open windows and cracks in the doors of brick houses that were scattered here and their on the small piece of land, the doors would fling open and husbands would kiss their wives goodbye and the children would scamper off to the schoolhouse to learn what they could in between distractions. Yes, the island would be alive once more and in the evening it would fall asleep once again and then once more awaken and then sleep, on and on.A never ending cycle.

Yet, the inhabitants didn't seem to mind one bit. All except for one, who sat now on the edge of the river bank holding onto a long tree branch and poking at the water to make ripples. He had a small build, yet was not overly lanky. His arms and legs had tight, compact muscle with fine pale color to match that brought out the fine blush of his cheeks. A cherub like face, with the most stunning blue eyes one could posses and had been the first observation of many upon meeting said otherwise, they gazed upon his golden blonde hair that seemed to have a mind of it's own; for it sat upon his head in an abstract wave. He wore blue britches, hiked up at the leg and rolled over to show the skin of his ankle and his bare feet. For a shirt, he wore a light plaid button up the was now unbuttoned at the top and showed off the small chest below.

His name was Roxas, but he wasn't known for being the most beautiful boy on the island or even the most likeable. Roxas was a trouble maker, and soon he would leap to his feet and climb the cream white rocks that bordered the schoolhouse to perch himself there and lie in wait. As soon as he heard the footsteps and chatter, he'd leap down and take to amusing himself thoroughly. After that, he'd more then likely climb a few trees and if he felt especially daring he'd head down river to Old Man Xigbar's cabin to acquire some tobacco.

The black haired man, with a streak of gray running through one strand that he said was "Mighty distinguished, ain't it?", had lost one of his eyes at some point in his miserable existence and would often tell the boy of how it happened. Now, either he had a completely short term memory or thought Roxas to be a fool, Roxas did not know, but what he did know was that each time the crazy devil told the story it changed to something more miraculous.

Well, at least he was good for a laugh. Upon heading back to the island, he might take to rigging a game of cards or perhaps placing bees in a mason jar and releasing them into the church if their was a service going on. If he had chores, he could always trick his so called friends into doing them for him or maybe he could get a date with that pretty blonde everyone was talking about. That'd show them, they wouldn't be able to talk bad about him if he had Namine the goody two shoes on his arm.

She wouldn't like his smoking, or his drinking, or his gambling, or any of the other things he did to occupy himself, so it probably wasn't the best idea. Or, maybe he'd just sit on the edge of the bank the whole day; staring out with the only thoughtful expression he ever gained. He truly could sit their for hours, and hours just to look out across the glimmering river to the main land. It was a restful place, with high oak trees and mossy covered branches going this way and that way.

There were many buildings farther off in the distance, but Roxas preferred to look at the one closest to the rivers edge opposite him. A large, white mansion that was perhaps owned by some wealthy plantation master long ago for it was the style of the era. Roxas often wondered what it looked like from the inside, and had attempted to cross to the mainland several times just to see. Yet, his small boat wouldn't take him the trip and the ferry cost too much to spare and when he was younger and had crossed with his mother and father on occasions, he was far to small to climb the tall iron gates that surrounded it.

So, he sat their thinking and plotting ways to get away from the small plot of land on the bank each morning and each night. Sometimes, he thought himself to be crazed and other times he thought himself to be possessed by some unknown force. It was answers he wanted, but all he ever got was more questions from that..whatever it was that called out to him nightly. He could never see it clearly, and from the distance he was at he could never make out any details but the colors were all he needed to be certain. The brilliant shade of red, the piercing green, and that velvety smooth voice.

He often wondered, perhaps it was the devil or some such demon attempting to call out to him. But, if so he wasn't sure if he minded or not. However, as soon as day break came he stopped thinking about it and went on with his life for appearances sake. You can't have a boy of fifteen just sitting on a river bank, people would start to wonder and ask questions. Roxas hated questions. They always asked them at the wrong time and too many at one time, like the night he had found the bodies of his parents sprawled over blood stained rocks and the police came from the mainland to ask questions. Or when the other boys had asked him why he was so short, or why he was so bad at swimming or some such nonsense.

He'd rather no one talk to him at all, except for that velvety voice.


	3. Far Away

**Well, just wanted to make a note that I rated this story mature for a reason. (And not just for the begining of this chapter either ^__^) **

**Anyway, so keep that in mind and enjoy. :] **

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The smell of water worn wood of the old mill filled his nostrils along with the sweet scent of the hair tickling against his nose. Having shifted his body his hands felt their way along the sides of her lithe waist and his lips pressed harshly to skin over and over again as he attempted to hush her cries. The last thing he needed was someone just barging in, especially since this was all so unexpected; especially from Miss Goody-goody. Not that he had complained when she had caught him out front on his way down to the river bank and practically dragged him backwards into he dim shadows and pressed herself against him with intention. There was electric flow to his actions from that point as he had ridded her of her pureness in the form of that bleach white dress and ridded her lips of their virgin words.

He had made her utter words he thought her to be half incapable off even thinking, and yet he didn't stop to think it over. Instead, he had moved her against the hard wood and slid his fingers to trail over hard nipples which had caused a,"Roxas.." to escape her throat almost breathlessly. He had bent his head downwards to flick his tongue over one while his other hand had trailed downwards, down to trace and tease the heat below.

She had bent her head back, pleading for his teasing to end. Apparently, she had wanted him for such a long time that she could not wait another moment. He had complied, removing his unneeded bottoms and positioned himself between her pale thighs. It had gone from there, yet it seemed to be much more meaningful to the moaning girl below him then for himself. He moaned a few times, yes, and his climax came as expected right along with hers..but certainly it wasn't anything of importance. So when, she had laid beside him against the hard wood afterward and had attempted to nuzzled into his neck he simply pulled away. He had reached for his britches, slipping them on and removed the small tobacco tin from his pocket to place some onto his tongue to chew on.

She had been outraged, of course, putting up a grand amount of protest that fell on deaf ears. He simply slung his shirt across his back, and walked out on his original path that was now dimmer from the later hour then earlier on. The grand oak trees were turned hues of gold in the mid afternoon sun, each leaf glowing like a firefly. Far off, there was the sound of jazz and the loud roar of a steam boat whistle which Roxas supposed was heading off to the dock to drop off its passengers. He wanted to be one of those passengers, just once.

Yet, of course he was stuck wondering off on the dirt path through the tall grasses that left scratchy feelings whenever somebody walked through them. To top it off, the goody good that apparently wasn't such a goody good after all had the audacity to still follow him and shout obscenities at him. "Gonna wake the dead, this one." he mumbled to himself, but didn't look back to see the last women on this island that would have he joy of having their heart broken by Roxas.

Later on when the sun had retreated beyond the horizon and the only sounds were the trickling of the river and the crickets, Roxas layed his clothes out over a log by his small kerosene lamp. The moon was full, just enough to see by which was good enough for the blonde as he crept steadily into the cool water. Shocking his nerves, but not wanting it to get the best of him, he dove in completely and came up a moment later before shaking his head and diving back down again. This time, he came back up right at the bank again and moved his hands to grasp onto a nearby rock where he had placed a bar of so called soap.

It didn't matter how he had acquired it, it just mattered that he be clean every now and then for his own good since he was old enough to be presentable..-ish. He stood to lather, letting the white foam take over his skin and his grimy hair. "I don't even know why I bother..Ah well." he mumbled to himself, placing the soap back on the rock and diving under again to rinse before coming back up again and shaking his head. By now, he was not only freezing but if you jabbed him with a sharp stick he probly wouldn't even feel it because he was so numb.

So, without further ado he walked onto the bank and began to wipe the excess water off with a burlap sack he had found behind a shed. It was scratchy, but was better then the toxically cool night air. Yet, he began to feel warm at the back of his neck and down his back; then all through his body in a single rush. His blue eyes widened, halting his actions immediately as he felt a brush of warm wind through his wet hair and a caress against his cheek.

"You know, the last I checked they had invented something called a bathtub." An all too familier voice said in his ear, so very low and smoothly it made Roxas's heart jump. Attempting to conceal his surprise, he remembered to breath and attempted to place his britches on while shrugging.

"Is that a fact?" There was a low laugh, short but pleasant and Roxas' ears strained to hear more but it soon dissipated into the voice one more.

"As much as a fact as it will ever be, kid. I've got a bout five of them, not that you will ever know that. Never get off of this damn island, do you?" Roxas scoffed, pulling on his button up shirt that was now beginning to rip at the trim and no longer wished to button. His mouth fell into a scowl, turning to glare behind him at..nothing but air. Of course, how could he of though otherwise?

He rolled his blue eyes, moving to sit on the dirt underneath him and pull his legs up to his chest.

"Okay, so you give me some money and then maybe I can." His tone was defensive, ticked off suddenly from the subject as his eyes scouted the horizon for the red and green he knew would be there.

"If I had any to give, you know I would." the voice said, so close that it felt as if Roxas were to look to the side it's body would be right there. But, instead it's location was in his eye sight far away on the mainland. It made him scowl, frustration running through his veins. At times, this would happen and he would be rewarded for who know's what by being allowed to speak to this..voice with a body that was farther away then his eyes could make out. Yet, as many times as this had occurred he had never been allowed to see the man close up(or whatever he was, Roxas was unsure).

His dreams had been filled with visions of what body could possibly match such a voice, but none ever sufficed. It had infuriating that for whatever reason he was not allowed the joy of witnessing the face(which he was sure was beautiful and beyond any his imagiantion could ever create) of the one he had found deep friendship in.

" Axel…I want..to see you."

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**Why end it there? Next chapter will tell you. ;D **

**Also, these are more..moments in time that are significant to these two. **

**Ahhh if I make no sense then please, don't mind me. **


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